Clue
by Skydive Off Isengard
Summary: Raph's stuck in Casey's Grandma's farmhouse during a raging storm, and he doesn't like it. Dedicated to those affected by the recent case of very bad weather.


**A/N _Hey, guys! 'Tis moi. My Muse needed a break from my other story, (I didn't say 'other'. Nope.) and thus, this was born. Ha. Thus-this._**

**_Anywho, this is a tribute to everyone who's suffered at the hands of the storms here (U.S.A.) recently. A freaking huge hug for those out there helping out. Ya'll rock!_**

**_Btw, this isn't beta'd yet, so ignore the grammar mistakes for the meanwhile, 'kay?_**

**_Disclaimer: If I owned the TMNT, do you think that 2k3 would've been canceled and FF and BTTS would've even been allowed to see the light of day? I think not!_**

~3~1~4~

"What d'ya mean we don' git ta go home yet! We were s'posed to leave yestahday!"

"I'm sorry, Raph, but the tornadoes ravaged the woods around here. All of the roads out are blocked by massive trees and branches. We were lucky that the house wasn't hit."

"I don' t'ink I'd call dis lucky." Raphael angrily swatted at some kind of winged bug that whizzed past his ear. "Dese summertime bugs are 'bout ta drive me crazy!" He yanked out a sai and sent yet another, particularly large, insect to it's grave. In halves.

Michelangelo pulled his eyes away from the muted weather channel to follow the path of a mosquito that glided past his eyes. It soared up to kamikaze-dive into a 75 watt bulb hanging from the ceiling... right above Raph's head. Mikey giggled. "Dude, you're sitting right under the light."

Raph's head tilted back, eyes momentarily widening when they were greeted by the swirling mass of bugs directly above. With a grunt of aggravation, he leapt from his seat and stomped over to the window, crossing his arms. "Almost wish da storm _had_ taken da house." He muttered.

"Raphael!"

Raph spun to face the disciplinary scowl of his Master. He frowned and tilted his head slightly, confused. "Sensei?"

Splinter leaned forward, putting more weight on his walking stick. "Raphael, sit down on the couch in front of the television."

"Uh, sure, Mastah Splintah." He did as he was told. On the screen, a skinny, dark-haired news reporter was standing in the very center of a powerful rainstorm. Her light gray suit jacket looked to be completely drenched underneath the poncho that was supposed to be protecting it. The wind tugged at her umbrella. She looked like she was yelling.

"Michelangelo, please turn up the volume on the tv."

Mikey nodded without comment and hit the 'mute' button.

"- has continued on for several hours, now." She _was_ yelling, yet she could barely be heard over the storm. "Thousands are without power, and reports are coming in that hundreds are being forced to evacuate due to tornadoes and extreme flooding. As you can see behind me," she stepped aside to give the camera a view of a building, or rather, what was left of it. "This area has already been bombarded, leaving many people homeless and without shelter." The camera cut to scenes of destroyed buildings, leveled to the ground. A truck twisted and mutilated beyond all recognition, resting in the thick branches of a tree, 50 feet high. Dirty, waterlogged people digging through the remains of their homes, hoping to find anything that survived.

Raphael sat rigid on the couch, arms resting on his knees, muscles taut, a dark look on his face.

"Michelangelo."

Mikey muted the tv and sat quietly, looking back from Raph to Splinter and back again.

Raph stared at the silent tv for a few seconds before yanking his eyes away. He stared at his hands, breathing heavily through his nose.

Splinter softened and laid a furry paw on his second oldest son's shoulder. "Do not be so quick to speak that which you haven't first considered, my son. Be grateful for what you have, for there are those who _aren't_ so fortunate." Splinter patted his son's shoulder once more and turned, leaving Raph to roll his words over in his mind.

Several silent minutes of thick air passed in the Farmhouse's living room. It was finally broken by Raph. "Aaagh!" He jumped from the couch and returned to the window. "I'm such an idiot. Why can't I evah t'ink about t'ings before I say 'em!" Raph laid his palms in the window sill and rested his head against the pane.

Mikey, who had taken to finding imaginary shapes in the grains of the wooden walls, refrained from replying something witty. A rare feat for him, but a necessary one, he decided.

Donatello finally spoke again. "You know what we could do." He said quietly, crossing his legs in the arm chair he was sitting in. "After this storm passes, we could take the Battleshell and get to work on removing those trees. Maybe help out a bit."

"Yeah..." Raph straightened and watched the raindrops pelting the glass that separated them. "That'd be great, Donny." And he meant it.

"I found it!" Casey's excited cry came from the top of the stairs. "My old board game collection. Innit great?" He planted his butt on the banister and slid down, wielding a box full of dusty, smaller boxes.

"_We _found it, you mean." April followed him down, taking the stairs instead of his more unconventional methods.

"Yeah, sure." Casey waved her off. "We. But innit great? Look at all dese!" He gestured excitedly to the box. He was joined by the three turtles.

Raph, making a silent promise to himself to 'Ask questions first, talk later', reached in and grabbed a small, square, colorfully designed box. "Don't tell me ya grew up playing_ Martian Mayhem, _Casey." He peered at the box in mild contempt.

Casey snatched the box away and cradled it to his chest. "Don't knock it, dude. It's addicting."

Raph smirked. "Sure, Case."

"OOH, I found Clue!" Mikey held up a box in triumph. "Can we play it? Puh-leeeeease?"

"I'm game!" Commented Donny. "Er, no pun intended."

April grinned and nudged Donny in the side with her elbow.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd pick THAT one."

The front door flew open. In came the howling wind, pouring rain, and a very soggy mutant ninja turtle with a large bundle. Leonardo ran in and kicked the door shut behind him. He was greeted with five pairs of eyes. Leo set the bundle down on the floor and grabbed his mask tails, squeezing out the rainwater. "Well..." He shrugged. "It's still storming."

"No, really?" Raph grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tossed it to Leo, cracking a half-smile.

"Thanks." Leo wiped away the excess water and slung the towel over his shoulder. "Sorry. Took me a while to find the tarp." He reached down and untied the bundle, revealing several split pieces of wood, completely dry.

"Oh, good!" Exclaimed April. "I'll get some matches and paper."

An hour later found the seven of them sitting comfortably in front of the crackling fire, Master Splinter beating them all at Clue. Raphael glanced outside at the raging storm and sent out a silent prayer for all those who weren't sitting in a warm, dry house, playing games with their families. And he was thankful that he was.

~3~1~4~

A/N_ It's 2:30 AM, so I'm probably not gonna like this at all tomorrow. But, hey! 'S why I'm posting it now. *evil laugh* Remember, ConCrit is good! ;)_

_God bless those out there who've lost and those who are helping!_


End file.
